by Frank Hurt
Ember blinked. Her eyes were starting to sting. “It wasn’t him. It was what I said. I was upset, and I said something hurtful to Rik.”
“I see.” Anna walked a few more steps before she stopped. “I know you two have only known each other a couple short weeks, but I know you’ve been spending a lot of time together. Be honest: do you care about my brother?”
Ember met Anna’s dusky brown, serious eyes—eyes so like Alarik’s. She nodded once. “Yes. I do.”
“Then you need to make this right. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching Arnie, it’s that life is fragile. Don’t wait for tomorrow to make things right, because tomorrow might never come.”
Ember inhaled deeply and nodded again. “You’re right. I’ll call him. Thank you, Anna.”
Anna gave Ember’s arm a squeeze. “Good. Because if you wait for him to call you, you’ll die of old age. We Schmitts are stubborn sonsabitches.”
Ember opted to continue walking through the wooded paths of the park, even after Anna took her leave. She didn’t feel like facing her co-workers just yet. She needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while.
The telltale ringing of a bicycle bell sounded off behind her, followed by a voice. “Passing to your left!”
Ember stepped aside to watch a middle-aged woman wave as she pedaled past. The woman reached into her bike’s basket, producing a peanut which she tossed into the weeds beneath a spruce tree. A grey squirrel bounced across the grass to retrieve its treat, and the woman resumed her journey.
Finding a bench in the shade nearby, Ember settled in and considered what she would say to Alarik when she called him. She wasn’t eager to apologize, to make herself vulnerable to potential rejection. She wondered if it might be for the best if she did cut ties with him, for his own safety. Wallace had warned her that if she was ever found out by Higginbotham or his co-conspirators, they would not hesitate to hurt others to get to her.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Behind her, she heard a child babbling happily. The little girl was talking to someone in a hushed tone.
Ember turned to watch the girl and found what she thought might have been a Native American child, lecturing a trio of robins who seemed completely unafraid of her. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. The girl wore a floral sundress, and she had dark, wavy hair trimmed short above her shoulders. Her skin was a bronzed tan, and when she looked up from the birds, she revealed a pair of startlingly bright eyes the color of oxidized copper.
It was the child’s aura which particularly grabbed the Investigator’s attention. She wasn’t Druwish, but she wasn’t entirely NonDruw, either. The girl’s energy glowed brightly, and moved around her in an alternating pattern, at times spotted and then herringbone. Ember had never seen anything like it.
The birds took to the air in different directions when the girl cried out. She ran to the bicycle path before dropping to her knees. Gingerly, the child picked up the limp carcass of a squirrel that had been smashed beneath a careless bike tire.
Ember looked around. Where are this girl’s parents? They can’t seriously be allowing this child to play with a dead animal! Seeing no adults paying attention, Ember looked back at the girl, just in time to see her walking up to some chokecherry shrubs at the edge of Roosevelt Park.
The Malvern woman felt her heart ache when she saw how carefully the girl carried the dead squirrel. Those emotions turned quickly to disgust when she watched the child bring the carcass to her lips to kiss it before setting it on the ground at her feet.
Ember stood up and walked briskly toward the girl. How did this suddenly become my responsibility? Where in the world are her parents? She’s bound to catch some sort of disease.
On the green turf in front of the tanned little girl, the squirrel twitched, and then it stood up. It scratched its ear with a back paw before scampering off into the shrubs. The tanned little girl squealed with glee, clapping her hands excitedly.
Ember stared at the girl, her eyes wide. The child noticed her then, and her expression instantly shifted from delight to fear.
“No, wait!” Ember shouted at the girl. She ran towards the child, but the little girl in the floral dress had already disappeared into the crowd.
Ember looked around, standing where the child had been. She wondered if someone was playing a trick on her. The roof of her mouth tasted dry and metallic. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she recognized the taste. Copper. The air tastes like copper.
She took a knee and touched the patch of sod where the girl had been kneeling moments ago. The oily, unusual mana residue she discovered was faint and fading fast. It was no doubt invisible to anyone other than Ember. Even she would not have known what it was if she hadn’t felt it twelve days ago in a smoke-filled kitchen in a house in Makoti.
It was the same alien energy she found trapped within the disabled changeling when she had tried to heal him.
24
They’re Waiting for You
The little yellow cottage on the edge of Plaza was alive with activity. The blue-and-red bunting weaved into the white picket fence fluttered happily in the stiff breeze. Two young children rode their bicycles in the driveway beneath a raised American flag. An old man stood next to a black grill with smoke puffing out of its silver vents. He waved at the passing car with a spatula.
Anna tapped her car’s horn twice in response as she drove past. “That’s Mr. Valance. He and his wife have lived there forever—since I was a kid at least. They keep such a festive yard, always decorating for the seasons. Looks like their son and grandkids are up visiting for the weekend.”
“Do you know everyone in Plaza?” Ember asked as she admired the houses through the passenger window of the sedan.
“Pretty much. It’s not like there are that many people in the neighborhood, and I’ve lived on the farm my whole life. Everyone gets together in town whenever there are weddings or funerals, or class reunions in the summer, and for Santa Days in December. It’s practically one big, extended family.”
Ember looked at the driver. “Thanks for the ride. And for including me in the celebrations.”
“Of course. It’s the Fourth of July, after all.” Anna turned the car off the paved road and onto gravel. “Did you talk to Rik yet?”
“Just briefly, to get everything set up for the meeting.”
“So, you didn’t make up with him yet?”
Ember glanced down. “Not yet. I will today, though. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing to do over the phone.”
“I’m holding you to that.” The way Anna said it, Ember didn’t doubt that she would.
Anna’s car joined the lineup of vehicles parked in a row in the gravel yard of the Schmitt Family farm. Neighboring farmers and family friends visited in clusters outside the open doors of the cement-floor, galvanized steel Quonset building. Anna stopped to chat with an elderly couple, leaving Ember to wander unattended for the moment.
The farm equipment was pulled out from storage to make room within the arched-roof Quonset. Several banquet tables were set up, with steel folding chairs arranged around them. Insulated five-gallon jugs with spigots sat on the end of one table next to a stack of red plastic Solo cups. The rest of the table hosted an arrangement of casseroles, desserts, and salads. New arrivals to the potluck added their contributions to the buffet line.
The scent of fresh-cut grass proclaimed the yard to be recently mowed. A volleyball net was staked out on a flat patch, and a game was underway. The teams were composed mostly of teenagers and a few young adults.
Ember closed her eyes and scanned the crowd. Most of the guests were NonDruws: neighbors and friends from around the farming neighborhood. What few Druws she noticed were entirely changelings; she was the only mage.
Wings flapped overhead, and a large bird landed atop an electricity pole next to the grain bins. With her eyes still closed, Ember recognized the image on the inside of her eyelids. Standing on the post
was a man—one of the changeling spies. I was wondering when you would show up, you feckless arsehole.
Footsteps approached and a familiar voice followed. “Hey. Anna said you wanted to talk to me about something.”
Ember opened her eyes and met Alarik’s gaze. She looked at her feet. “Hi. I…yeah, I do. I don’t know if right now is the best time though?”
“Okay.” Alarik pronounced the word slowly. “She said you asked for me, and it was important.”
Ember looked past the man and caught a glimpse of Anna. She was standing near the buffet table, talking to some people, but she kept glancing over at her brother. Thanks, Anna. I suppose you did warn me.
“Right.” Ember looked over at the spying buzzard, and then quickly back to Alarik. “Someplace we can talk?”
They walked to Anna’s woodshop. Once inside, Ember paced the length of the small building, inhaling the pleasant medley of oak and pine as her heels clicked on the plywood floor. She dragged her fingertips along the sawdust accumulated in the miter slot of the band saw, drawing designs on the smooth table as she tried to articulate what was on her mind. “I wanted to apologize. Rik, it was bloody rude of me to say what I did. I regret it. You have been nothing but kind to me. I’m sorry I said what I did.”
Alarik crossed his arms and nodded once, but said nothing. His square-jawed facial features revealed no expression.
“And for the containment net.” Ember continued. “I just reacted. I thought you were someone else—someone trying to spy on me.” She looked out the dirty window of the woodshop to verify that the changeling turkey vulture was still perched on the utility pole. The bird was still there, though he turned to watch the door of the building she was in. “There’s another one of those spies outside right now. The buzzard on the tall post in the yard. I’ve seen him before, so there’s at least two of them taking turns following me.”
Alarik glanced out the window and growled low. “I see him. You’re sure he’s a changeling, too?”
“I am, without a doubt. He and that crow track my every move, except when you’ve been able to sneak me away through the tunnels. That night at the cemetery, I thought one had managed to find me. But it was you. I’m sorry I attacked you.”
“I accept your apology.” Alarik continued watching the large bird perched on the utility post outside. “If for nothing else, then so we can continue working together. For Arnie.”
“Thank you, Rik. I didn’t know how much our friendship meant to me until I thought I’d lost you—I mean until I lost it. The friendship, that is.”
He looked over his shoulder at her, though he still faced the window. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. We’re just working together, alright? Nothing more than that. I’ve set things up for today like you asked me to. Let’s not make this any more complicated than it has to be.”
She felt her hopes dashed then. Ember swallowed hard and pushed her emotions aside. “That’s something at least. Right, just keeping it professional then. I can do that.”
“Good.” Alarik turned away from her again. “Good. Then we should get back.”
“Speaking of complicated, there’s one more thing I need to tell you. I saw something, on Thursday when Anna and I chatted at the park in Minot.”
“You and Anna visited at a park?” Alarik leaned against the workbench. “I didn’t know about that.”
“Yeah. Well, that’s not important. What’s important is that after Anna left, I saw something.” Ember ran her fingers through her blonde hair. “Do you remember when I tried healing Kenny?”
“You mean when you threw up all over Peg’s kitchen?”
“One of my finer moments, that. I didn’t tell you what I felt—what I sensed—when I was connected to Kenny. He had a…I don’t know how to describe it…a strange presence within him. Unusual mana—something alien.”
“Alien?” Alarik scratched his stubbled chin. “What, like from another planet?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t rule anything out.” Ember shook her head. “I felt something similar that day in the park. The same alien energy.”
“So, you saw another one of the changelings from the Mandaree Incident?” Alarik leaned forward, and his eyes widened. “Wait, do you think Arnie’s got this within him, too?”
“He might. I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to try finding out.” Ember chewed on her lip and studied the squiggles she made in the sawdust. “But no. No, it wasn’t a changeling. It was a little girl. Maybe eight years old. She wasn’t Druwish, but she had mana. Potent mana. Rik, I saw her bring a dead animal back to life.”
Alarik was silent as he studied Ember. Finally, he said, “Let’s just say she did. Let’s assume what you saw really happened. What does it mean?”
“I didn’t imagine it, Rik. The little girl ran off, and I tried to find her but it was like she’d just vanished into the crowd. But what I saw really did happen. And I don’t know what it means. It’s just one more in a lengthy list of questions I don’t have answers for.” She rubbed fine sawdust between her index and thumb. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
The knock at the door startled them both. The hinges whined in protest as bright sunlight intruded. Anna leaned in and looked quizzically first at her brother and then at Ember. “I didn’t want to butt in, but they’ve all arrived. They’re waiting for you.”
25
I Remember Something
When Ronald and Muriel Schmitt built their house, they designed it for a large family. Though they ended up having only three children, they enjoyed hosting their extended family for holidays. The expansive family room in the basement featured a full-size pool table on one half of the room, with a stone fireplace on the other half. Between those anchors were an array of sofas and recliners along the walls. Whenever a piece of upstairs living room furniture became too worn out and the family budget allowed it, a new piece would be purchased, and the old one would be relegated to its retirement in the basement.
Every available seat in the family room was now taken, as accommodation for the ten gathered changelings.
Ember, Alarik, and Anna were the last to arrive. They stood around the aged pool table, facing the guests.
It was Alarik who started. “Thank you all for coming here today. I’ve asked all of you together because there’s someone who wants to meet you. Someone who wants to help find answers for you, for the health problems you’ve been dealing with. This is Ember Wright. She’s an Associate Investigator, and she’s going to ask you some questions.”
Ember smiled and stepped forward. Before she could speak, she was interrupted.
“A goddamn Malvern?” The bald man who spoke was sitting on one end of an old sofa. When he leaned forward, a vintage orange-and-brown wagon wheel pattern was revealed on the couch’s cushions. “Nobody from the Magic City ever wanted to help us before. Why would this one be any different?”
One of the other changelings grumbled in agreement. Several of the strangers glared at Ember.
“Just hear her out.” Anna picked up a billiard ball and started tossing it between her hands. “Rik and I think she’s the real deal. She’s not from the Viceroyalty, she’s representing the High Council. The Council is the one making this case.”
Ember dropped the leather satchel from her shoulder and placed it on the pool table. She absently selected one of the other billiard balls from the green felt surface and held it in her hand. It was cold and heavy, this Number Seven. She looked up from the ball and tried to sound confident, in charge. “Thank you, Anna. I need to correct you though; I can’t say I’m representing the Council. In fact, I can’t say there’s a case at all. Not formally. Ideally, I need to ask that what we discuss today not be repeated or talked about outside of this room, by any of you.”
The bald man scoffed. “Is that why all the cloak and dagger? Why we’re meeting in the basement? Hiding like caged rats is what we’re being treated like.”
Ember casu
ally tossed the billiard ball to her other hand, like she saw Anna doing. It felt like something that would make her appear more confident, more assured than what she actually was. Her lack of coordination showed itself as the heavy ball slipped from her hand and dropped. Number Seven dropped on her foot and rolled away, disappearing beneath a recliner. She suppressed a wince and ignored her throbbing toe, though she knew everyone had to have seen her clumsiness. “It’s for our mutual security that we have to keep this among ourselves for now.”
This proclamation made half of the group grumble. The bald man stood up and began to walk out of the room.
“Dammit, Roy, will you sit your ass down and shut up?” It was the gravel voice of Peggy Barth. “Ember is tryin’ to help us. She met with me an’ Kenny already. Hell, she tried to help heal Kenny, even.”
Roy looked over at the emaciated man sitting on an uncomfortable old kitchen chair in the corner, near the unlit fireplace. “And did she? Is Kenny better?”
Kenny scratched the inside of his elbow. His gaze never rose above Roy’s knees when he replied. “No. But she tried.”
“Oh, that’s so comforting.” Roy squinted at Ember.
Arnie was sitting on the other end of the wagon wheel pattern couch. He held a red plastic cup in his hand, from which he had been sipping. His words were slurred, suggesting that the cup’s contents weren’t simply fruit juice. “Hey, at least she’s trying to help! When was the last time any of us had anyone other than one of our family members step up for us?”
A few people nodded. Ember and Alarik exchanged knowing glances.
Roy wasn’t ready to acquiesce just yet. He stepped up to Ember. Alarik’s stance stiffened, and in her periphery, she saw his hand close into a fist. The bald man grumbled. “What’s in it for you, mage? Why are you so interested in this?”